


Chasing Monsters

by ScribbledGhost



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: F/M, I'm having so much fun with this y'all don't even know, POV Third Person, cryptid hunter au, witchy reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbledGhost/pseuds/ScribbledGhost
Summary: Ezra has been on the hunt for the elusive Chupacabra for most of his life. He stumbles upon an eccentric woman who provides him with information for his quest, but over time he finds that she's providing him with much more than just simple information.Rating is subject to change.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Original Female Character(s), Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader





	Chasing Monsters

Life was not simple for a drifter, despite copious opinions otherwise. Much less one who was hunting a creature most of the populace was convinced did not exist.

Ezra contemplated his own existence as he drove down another desolate stretch of road, having turned off another lengthy highway hours before. His travels had sent him crisscrossing along the southern part of the United States map, as well as down into Central and South America. Each stop along the way serving to further his knowledge, and each stop turning up an equal amount of nothing in the way of tangible evidence.

For decades, he’d been looking for the elusive creature El Chupacabra. The Goat-Sucker, by another name. He knew it existed. He knew it prowled out in the deserts at night, searching for unsuspecting livestock left out of their housings overnight.

He knew this. He just needed to prove it.

But proving seemed to be much, much more difficult than simply knowing.

As he pulled into a small diner off to the side of the road, he carefully took stock of his funds. He’d have to settle for something cheap. Perhaps ask around the area to see if anyone could offer him some part-time or seasonal work before he made his way across the map once more. But that line of thought could be better constructed once he had a warm meal.

Ezra seated himself near the door, in a small booth that likely hadn’t been replaced since the building was created decades before. The stained menu offered much of the same comfort foods he was used to in small diners such as this, and he was relieved to find the prices matched the opulence (or lack thereof) of the place.

His waitress took his order quickly, tending to his needs with a practiced ease. As he ate, he considered another option for his stop. It was a long shot, but perhaps he could find some more useful information around the area as well.

“I beg your pardon, miss,” Ezra asked, “But I was a wondering if you could provide me with some information.”

“I can certainly try,” the young woman responded, stopping at his table.

“I was curious as to if you had anyone in town who would have information on the more… strange things in existence,” he began, “someone that people go to should odd happenings begin occurring nearby?”

“Oh yes, as a matter of fact, there is,” the waitress told him, “Just down the way, past the abandoned school building, there’s a turn off onto a dirt road. You follow that, and it’ll take you to a small house in the woods. The woman who lives there knows all sorts of things about the paranormal and monsters. That sort of thing. She’s a strange woman, but people visit her all the time for advice, and she’s very kind. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to share what she knows.”

Ezra thanked her with a nod, finished paying his bill, then got back into his car. As he drove, he found himself slightly skeptical of the testimony; he’d been to see enough “strange folk” in his years to know that most of them only had the same amount of knowledge as he did. But it was better than nothing, and he was in sore need of someone to properly discuss his mission with. Perhaps this “strange woman” would understand.

As he pulled onto the dirt road the waitress had instructed him to look for, he began to see her home peeking out through the trees. The closer he got, the more it appeared that he had found another dime-a-dozen “sorceress”. Her home was average-looking, nestled out of the way among the foliage. On her porch were several plants, complete with a handful of wind chimes and witches ladders. He wondered with a slight laugh to himself if he would walk in and find a crystal ball staring back at him.

As he parked, he walked slowly up to the door and knocked quickly, prompting a “come in” from the other side. He opened the door to find two young women sitting at a table, one holding out a jar to the other.

“Here,” the woman said, “it contains some materials that may help you. The paper has a sigil on it, one for protection and peace. Draw it with intention at any entrance or wherever you need to feel safe. There’s also a blend of incense as well, and instructions on how to cleanse using smoke if you desire or do so. Otherwise, keep a horseshoe above your door, or garlic by your window.”

She went on to further explain to the other woman how to speak to the spirits apparently manifesting in her home. Ezra took careful stock of the home, noting how it was similar to other odd dwellings that he’d been in before, yet there were some distinctly unique qualities. Most of the furniture appeared vintage, even antique. The shelves were lined with various books, jars, and other oddities, while streams of gentle sunlight cascaded in and onto the carpet beneath him. In some ways, the home was dimly-lit, and yet in others, it appeared to be absolutely vibrant.

Perhaps Ezra’s first conceptions had been misplaced.

He watched the pair for a bit longer, listening to the woman give her final instructions. Her customer nodded gratefully before walking past Ezra and taking her leave.

“And how may I help you?” The other woman asked pleasantly, “I haven’t seen your face around here before.”

“I’m simply a drifter,” Ezra replied, “I’m just passing through.”

“Fair enough,” she replied, “So what are you needing from me?”

“I was told you may have information,” he asked.

“That depends,” the woman replied, “what kind of information are you requesting?”

“I need to know about a creature called the Chupacabra,” he said, “I’ve been chasing it for years, but haven’t been able to get conclusive evidence as to its existence. But I know its real.”

“Of course it is,” the woman said, “but you won’t find it by conventional means.”

“As I’m well aware,” Ezra replied, “I’ve spent decades up and down the American Southwest, Mexico, and Puerto Rico, but have found nothing.”

“There are other places you could try, you know,” she responded, gaining a raised eyebrow from him.

“What do you mean?” He asked, “Those are the only places the Chupacabra is known to wander.”

“Mm, not quite,” the odd woman hummed to him, walking over to a bookcase and pulling from it a tome that looked to be at least a handful of decades older than himself. Ezra tilted his head, equal parts intrigued at what information she could have and offended that she appeared to insult his experiences.

“Here,” she said, opening the book and presenting it to him, “Since the first reports in Puerto Rico in the mid-90’s, other sightings have been made as far north as Maine in the United States, not to mention a handful of other countries like Chile, the Philippines, and even Russia. Of course, the most common reports come from the southwestern U.S. and Mexico, but others can be found in other regions.”

Ezra nodded slowly, his eyes skimming along the book as he took in claims and information that he’d never seen before. In all his years of research, all his countless hours of hunting and chasing, how had he missed this much?

“Where did you get this?” He asked, holding the book up to her, “I’ve been studying the Chupacabra for decades, yet I’ve never been privy to such a wealth of documentation.”

“I rarely look for such things,” she said in reference to the tome, “they tend to find me instead. That one in particular came to me from a friendly young woman who traded it for some of my advice and services. How it had come to her, I did not ask.”

Ezra nodded, contemplating what he would do next.

“May I borrow this?” He asked gently, “It would vastly improve the quality of my search for the creature. You have my word that I would return it to you once I am finished.”

“You may, and you may borrow any other books you wish as long as they are eventually returned,” she nodded, “But nothing here is freely given. I must request something in return, my dear Drifter.”

“I must apologize then, for I am woefully short on funds,” Ezra sighed, closing the book and making to hand it back to her. However, she chuckled quietly, pushing it back in his direction as he still held it.

“Not everything must be paid for with material wealth,” she replied, “Not here, anyway.”

“Then what would you desire as payment?” Ezra asked, his eyes flickering to her lips. He’d seen enough of the world to know what words like those typically meant, and he wondered if he would be willing to give himself to her for a night if she requested it in exchange for her novel. She was beautiful, alluring, and intriguing, he gave her that. He decided that he would be more than consenting in such a scenario, although the request itself seemed… odd to him.

“A story,” she replied, confusing him.

“A story?” He repeated. She nodded, sitting down at a table before motioning for him to join her. As he did so, she explained.

“Indeed,” she said, “Tell me the story of why your hunt for the Chupacabra is so dire that you are willing to drift for decades chasing what many would consider to be a fallacy. There must be more there than simple curiosity.”

Ezra pondered his words for a moment, then took a deep breath before delving into his memories.

“I was young,” he started, “and with my father out in the middle of the southwestern desert for a camping excursion. There was a ranch nearby, plenty of livestock that we could see from our temporary dwellings.”

“Mhm,” the woman nodded, continuing to listen intently to his tale.

“It was late at night, and a dreadful sound awoke me from where I was sleeping,” Ezra explained, “I ventured away from the tent, and followed the cries over to the nearby paddock, when I… I saw…”

“Something you could not explain,” she finished for him. He nodded, but he knew that he was not yet done with his tale.

“It was like a large dog, eating one of the goats in the field. But it… it was no canine. It had spikes on its back, scales that glinted in the moonlight. I must have startled it, as it stood and looked straight at me with eyes I shall not soon forget… and then it charged at me.”

“Attacking a human? That is behavior I hadn’t heard of before. Very interesting… please, go on.”

“It knocked me down, pinned me beneath itself as it snapped its jaws at me. I’m not sure if it was a tooth or a claw that managed to gouge my skin, but as you can see,” Ezra said, motioning to the curved scar on his cheek, “it branded me for the rest of my days. If my father had not come along and scared it away, I fear I may have died that night.”

The table fell into collective silence once he concluded his recount, a few heavy moments passing before the woman across from him spoke again.

“I can see why you’re so consumed with this search then,” she said, “to be so close to death yet no one believing the true cause… it must have been difficult for you.”

“Incredibly,” Ezra said, “which is why I need all the help I can get in securing proof. To make people realize I was not merely telling tales that night.”

She nodded again, this time hesitating before quickly nodding to his missing right arm.

“And was that…?”

“Oh, I’m afraid this was caused by much more mundane circumstances,” Ezra replied, indicating the stump that was left, “I received a slight injury during one of my times out in the wilderness. I did not want to give up my chase so soon, so I attempted to make do with what little medical supplies I had. However, as you can see, the outcome was much different than I had intended. Infection rendered the limb useless, and if I did not have it amputated, it would have spread and cut my days particularly short.”

“My apologies, I did not mean to intrude,” his companion said softly, but Ezra simply shook his head in response.

“No need for apologies,” he replied, “it was a valid question.”

“May I also ask if you are in need of a place to stay tonight?” She asked, “I have a spare room for guests and drifters, and I would venture to say you are both.”

“That would be much appreciated, actually,” he said, suddenly realizing he would much prefer a warm bed to the backseat of his car for a night.

“Very well,” she said, “you may peruse my collection of information as much as you like, and as I said before, you may borrow as many as would help you, provided you return them when you have had your use of them. Your story was more than adequate compensation for them, my dear Drifter.”

“That is very kind of you,” Ezra replied, “My name is Ezra, by the way. Seems only appropriate you should have a name to place with the face sharing your home this evening.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ezra,” she replied before giving him her own name in turn. He repeated it back, as if he were savoring its taste.

As Ezra wandered over to the bookshelves, he noticed her walk away into another part of the house, no doubt to get a bed ready for him. He perused the titles; some of them in English, some of them not. Some of them still in languages he could not recognize at all. He chose a couple from the shelf, flipping through the pages and indexes to see if they contained any pertinent information. A few times, he wound up returning a book to the shelf, only to find one right next to it that held the exact details he’d been looking for. He remembered back to his host’s statement that her tomes often found her, not the other way around.

A sudden brush of something against his lower leg startled Ezra out of his thoughts, and he looked down to find a small calico cat brushing its fur along him.

“Well hello, little one,” Ezra murmured, kneeling down to pet it, “I hadn’t noticed you there.”

“Ah, yes,” the woman said, returning to the living room, “I see you’ve met Lyla. I’m pleased to see she’s taken a liking to you. Not many guests pass her test, especially not well enough to be allowed to pet her.”

“Test?” Ezra inquired.

“Well, that’s one term for it, anyway,” she replied, “animals have a very keen sense of people’s nature. There have been many guests who have been turned away because Lyla refused to allow them near me, only for me to find out later that their intentions were less than acceptable. So to see her allowing you so close brings me comfort.”

“I understand,” Ezra replied, “a very keen decision on your part.”

“Thank you kindly,” she said, “Have you found what you are looking for?”

“I think I have a good start,” Ezra said, holding up three books in addition to the one she’d already given him, “This should serve me well and provide me with at least a few leads.”

“Wonderful,” she said with a smile, “you’re more than welcome to read them in your room, or right here in the den, whichever you would prefer. Though if you stay in here, I cannot guarantee you won’t be interrupted by someone else coming to call upon my services.”

“What kind of services do you provide, exactly? Surely you must get wages from somewhere,” Ezra asked, standing to his feet and moving towards a plush couch.

“I provide many services,” the woman responded, taking a seat in a nearby rocking chair, “most people come calling when they have a problem they cannot explain or when conventional solutions have failed. Some arrive simply for spoken advice, or to have a listening ear. Others still, like yourself, are looking for something they cannot find on their own. As for payment, I only ask in return what people can offer. Some offer monetary funds. Others offer less tangible things, like stories. And others still simply bring things to barter with, such as ingredients for spells or books. I assure you, I am not in any financial danger.”

“I did not mean to imply that you are,” Ezra said softly, “I was simply curious.”

“I take no offense,” she replied with a smile that seemed to root itself in his chest, “I understand curiosity concerning such matters.”

With this, the room fell silent, and as Lyla climbed upon the woman’s lap, she began to rock the chair gently, moving her head to stare out of the window and towards the lush green landscape beyond. Ezra took the first book and creaked open the pages, beginning to pore through the sections he thought could help him most in his quest. The quiet was not unsettling, nor was it awkward or uncomfortable. It simply was, as if it were meant to be this way. It was a comfortable silence, one that Ezra realized he quite enjoyed being a part of.

The afternoon passed in a lazy haze, Ezra interrupting the stillness every so often to ask questions about his readings or to ask for her advice on certain matters. The sunlight drifted through the windows, shadows growing longer throughout the day.

“I suppose it’s time for dinner, wouldn’t you say?” She asked, and Ezra nodded in the affirmative as his stomach growled in turn.

She stood and moved into her kitchen, pulling a pot from beneath the countertop and preparing a gathering of different types of foods.

“Are you alright with stew?” She asked gently, turning back to Ezra.

“More than alright,” Ezra replied, “that sounds divine.”

She nodded, smiling at him before going back to her business. She added in the ingredients, tossing in a few herbs from her collection as well. Whether they were for taste or for more metaphysical purposes, Ezra did not ask. She hummed a tune he did not recognize as she cooked, and he noticed that she always stirred her pot full of broth and delicacies in a clockwise motion. He made a mental note to ask her why later. But for the time being, Ezra contented himself with perusing the tomes that he’d chosen from her shelves, his stomach growing more persistent as the scent of the food made its way in from the kitchen.

Ezra briefly considered that he found her little cottage more of a home than anything else he’d found for himself since his seemingly never-ending journey had begun all those years ago. The thought unnerved him slightly, considering he’d only been her guest for mere hours at this point. But he felt as though there was a light to her, an energy that he could never hope to find a duplicate of no matter how far or wide he traveled.

He was roused from his thoughts be the sound of her summoning him for dinner. He placed his books onto the low-rise table before him, and made his way into the kitchen with the sweet smell of food growing stronger with every step. He found a pot filled to the brim with stew, and a bowl sat aside for him as she nodded towards the sink for him to wash his hands. Once Ezra had done so, he grabbed a generous portion of food for himself, taking an extra spoonful at the woman’s insistence.

“You’ll need the extra food for your journey later,” she said, “Don’t be afraid to take as much as you like.”

Once Ezra sat himself across from her at her kitchen table, he began to devour his meal, unaware of just how hungry he’d become for a decent home-cooked meal until the first bite met his tongue.

“Are the books offering you any assistance?” She asked him between mouthfuls.

“Indeed they are,” he responded, “According to their information, I believe it would be most advantageous to search again in the southwest. However, it would serve me well to look smarter, not harder, I believe.”

His host hummed in agreement.

“I concur,” she said, “it does no good to wander in circles if you are not intending to.”

“Yes,” Ezra replied, “and I cannot imagine many scenarios in which people intend to wander in circles.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” she said, “there are many instances in which wandering in circles can be very beneficial. At least in a circle, you will always wander back to the point you started from.”

Ezra nodded, contemplating her words as he ate.

_Yes_ , he thought to himself, _it does quite appear that my first impressions of you were very incorrect indeed, my dear._


End file.
